


Life, The Universe, And Dog Biscuits

by rivlee



Series: Live Fast, Die Old [6]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:39:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grocery store aisles shouldn't be the place for such thoughts. Part of a Modern!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life, The Universe, And Dog Biscuits

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the same 'verse as _How Lovely You Are_

Auctus never felt so old as he did when watching Pietros and Duro dash around the grocery store. It was exhausting seeing them flitter about between the aisles and grabbing all sorts of food that made Auctus’ stomach turn. Auctus was far from a food snob, he did eat Taco Bell by choice, but there was that and then there were pork rinds. 

“We’ve become the men our mentors warned us to stay away from,” he informed Barca. 

Barca was too busy comparing one type of organic wheat pasta with the other to notice. When the hell had they become the type of men that went shopping with their partners on Sunday mornings? They had shopping lists, coupon folders, green bags and friggin’ Activia in their carts. They were debating types of spaghetti while Duro and Pietros were debating over Fruit Roll-Ups or actual grown-up granola bars. 

“I have never felt so old in my entire life,” Auctus muttered into his hands.

“Not even when Duro made you throw your back out last month?” Barca asked.

“I fucking hate you with all the force of hatred in the world right now,” Auctus said. He raised his head just in time to see some yuppie mother grab her kid and hurry past them. “And now I’m terrorizing the soccer moms.”

“You’ve always terrified the soccer moms, what with your artist attitude and penchant for leather jackets. Secretly though, they’ll go home, read their 50 Shades of Utter Tripe and get off to the image of that semi-terrifying man they saw having a personal crisis in the grocery store.” 

Barca leaned over and pulled the list from Auctus’ hands. “You don’t need bread. Duro said he didn’t want you eating that over-processed crap you always buy so he bought it fresh from Donar’s place.”

“Why is my boyfriend consulting you about my dietary needs?”

“Because he knows you’ll actually listen to me when it involves your diet. He’s inheriting all the bullshit that comes with making sure you’ll live to see forty and with that power comes a great need to know it won’t always be this bad.”

“I am not that bad.”

“You’re a fucking nightmare, Auctus. I say that with love.”

“Oh, thank you so much for that kindness,” Auctus muttered. He stole his list back and rolled his eyes at Barca’s corrections to Duro’s spelling and grammar. “It’s a shopping list.”

“Duro could benefit from an Intro to Composition class.”

“I’m sorry, he was too busy touring as a guitar tech and becoming a certified electrician to go to a four-year college.” 

“So defensive.”

“You of all people should know better than to criticize someone’s lack of college education.”

“It wasn’t a criticism just an observation. He’s settled now, isn’t he? He doesn’t plan on hopping on Naevia’s next tour?”

“He might,” Auctus said. He didn’t like to think about it. It’s wasn’t Duro he didn’t trust it was everyone else in the world he doubted. Duro hadn’t said anything about joining the tour and until he did, Auctus was letting it go. 

“What is taking you two so long?” Pietros asked. His arms were weighted down with Gatorade. “I don’t think that box of pasta is going to reveal the meaning of life, Barca.”

“42,” all of them said. 

Pietros dropped one of the packs into his cart and the other into Auctus’. “I suggest you two move before Duro buys out the whole pet aisle with toys and treats for Moose.”

“Oh, so you are keeping that bag of bones,” Barca said.

Auctus gave him the finger. Moose was still a puppy, obviously part pit bull, and there really was no choice but to keep her. It only made sense Auctus kept the dog since he had half a building and a studio for Moose to run around. As far as Auctus was concerned, she deserved all the treats and toys the store had to offer.

“I’ll go save my bank account from Moose’s stomach,” Auctus said. “We’ll meet you two at the car.”

“You need to get actual food,” Barca argued.

“We just need staples. You know we’re going to get our real meals from either you or Saxa.” 

“You two could _attempt_ to cook for other people,” Barca said.

Pietros made a face. “Barca, you do not want to see what Agron and Duro consider homecooking. Their family traditions somehow involve turduckens.”

“What?” Barca asked. 

Auctus nodded. “It’s true. Every major family event which has a dinner somehow involves that unholy creation. They debone the fowls themselves.”

“Stop talking,” Barca ordered.

Auctus exchanged a wink with Pietros before gladly vacating the pasta aisle. Sure enough Duro was actually checking the back of the all the dog biscuit boxes. There was a semi-circle of cardboard boxes with happy puppy faces around his feet. Only Duro, in jeans held together by duct tape and a Boondock Saints t-shirt showing off the grey and black tattoo outline of his half-finished sleeve, could manage to look harmless and innocent. 

“Moose is going to eat whatever you give her,” Auctus said. He parked the cart and rested his hands on the small of Duro’s back. “It’s not a life changing decision.”

“I’d rather she get something with actual nutritional value than half cardboard.”

“Just buy the Newman’s Own. I always liked Paul.”

“His daughter runs the pet food business. It’s all organics and its own company.”

“How the hell do you know this?”

Duro shrugged. “Work has its slow days. Agron doesn’t care what I do with the work computer as long as I avoid the hardcore porn.”

“And how does you being bored at work lead to researching grocery food brands?”

“You never went to your salad dressing’s website?”

“No.” Auctus squeezed Duro’s hip. “You’re one-of-a-kind, Duro. Come on, grab two bags of the treats and let’s get the hell out of here. The fluorescent lighting and screaming children are giving me a headache.”

“Your stereotypical artiste bullshit about hating the whole world is getting tired, old man.”

“I will leave your ass here, little chickadee.”

“And let someone else try and take me home.” Duro scoffed. “That’ll be the fucking day.”

He had a pretty damn fine point and they both knew it. Auctus refused to admit it though so he just picked up all the boxes and shoved them into the cart, grabbing Duro with this other arm.

“What the hell are you doing?” Duro laughingly asked.

“Moose is an orphan. She deserves a variety,” he said. He nodded at the cashier and handed her his store rewards card.

How the hell did he become the type of man who had a grocery store rewards card?

“You’re so fucked up,” Duro whispered into his ear. He pressed a kiss to Auctus' cheek before sliding to the end of the register to help the cashier bag.  
Someone slapped his ass and he turned to find Pietros grinning at him. Barca leaned over their shoulders and burst into laughter as he saw the boxes of dog biscuits.

“Not a fucking word, Dr. Elissa.” 

Barca held up his hands in surrender. Auctus nodded. At least one thing was going as it should today. He looked down the register, absolutely refusing to admit his breath caught as he watched Duro laugh out loud at some stupid joke the sixteen-year-old cashier with the obvious new crush on her customer made. 

He really was so very fucked and he really didn’t give a shit.


End file.
